Ashes to Ashes
by Alyyang123
Summary: Human!AU :: A dangerous drug known as "Crimson Flower" has overtaken the Underground, causing destruction wherever it goes. Worth millions of dollars, members of the Underground scramble for distribution rights. The catch: only members of the mysterious syndicate M.A.N. know how to make and use it. And then there's Mowgli, who just wants to live another day...
1. oo1

Most of the plot and characters based off of the 2016 remake, a few characters based off the original book. I have never watched the original Disney movie. Forgive me for any errors. I took many, _many_ liberties with this.

Modern World AU. Everybody is a human. Set in the present, or maybe slightly in the past. Baloo/Bagheera later on, otherwise generally Gen. Drabble format.

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 **ASHES**

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 **ASHES**

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 _oo1)_

"Bet you can't beat me!" Mowgli grinned, typing something rapidly on his computer keyboard. "Haha, take _that_!"

"Not so fast," Bagheera said, staring intently at his own computer screen. "You left your right side open when you attacked me." He clicked his mouse, revealing a satisfied expression when the computer announced that his hit had caused critical damage. "Try again, next time."

" _Whyyyyy_ ," Mowgli moaned, leaning back onto his seat when the K.O. screen appeared. "I would've beat you, if only my hit had landed."

Bagheera snorted. "That kind of hit would never land. Your accuracy is pathetic, and your speed is no match for mine. If you had attacked from far-range, maybe then you could have beat me."

"That's no fun at all, then," Mowgli said, sighing. "Attacking directly is so much more exciting." He reached forward to shut off the computer, a mass of black hair flopping into his eyes with the movement. "I should play more with Grey Brother. At least he lets me win sometimes."

"That's not called winning, that's called cheating," Bagheera berated, shutting off his own computer as well. It was quiet inside of the computer room, the room inhabited by only the two of them, the usual sounds of humming monitors and beeping replaced with an unsettled silence. "And you should stop bothering your brother so much, he's already busy enough with work as it is."

"No he's not, Akela's not mean enough to do that," Mowgli defended, pouting. "And besides, I'm his little bro. Everybody has time for their little bro. That's the entire reason elder siblings were created." He looked convicted enough in his beliefs that Bagheera didn't really have the heart to correct him, instead sighing in barely veiled fondness and patting his head.

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	2. oo2

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 **ASHES**

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 _oo2)_

Grey Brother wasn't really the man's name, although Raksha's eldest son preferred to be called by his underground moniker. Why he would prefer such a thing, Bagheera really had no idea, but he wasn't one to judge. His own name, "tiger", was certainly ridiculous enough that he had considered changing it before once or twice.

Grey Brother wasn't really Mowgli's elder brother, either, but Raksha _had_ adopted the boy on a technicality and no one was asking. The two were the closest together of all of Raksha's brood, a category contested by none of their other siblings (the underground was a tricky business, after all, and _no one_ was safe from betrayal), and Bagheera trusted the man to keep his charge safe.

The topic of his thoughts stood now, his back to the balcony door, a cigarette in his right hand as he looked into the far distance. The man certainly took after his mother in looks, with a high, sculpted face, a pale, almost sickly skin tone, and silver hair that cascaded into a messy ponytail to his back; although telltale traces of his father's broader frame remained behind. He was tall, but not lanky, and occasional bulges of muscle could be seen under the revealed sections of his skin.

"Bagheera," the man said, taking a deep drag of smoke. It was a testament to his restraint that he showed no visible reaction to Bagheera's soundless entrance. With his left hand, he took out an unsmoked cigarette and lighter from inside his jacket and held it out in a wordless offer. "What brings you here today?"

"Mowgli told me all about how you occasionally concede victory to him," Bagheera said, lighting the proffered cigarette. He looked into the distance, noting the endless expanse of faraway blue sky. "If he gets used to it, he'll never survive out here."

"Oh, lighten up, Bagheera, it was just a couple games," Grey Brother said dismissively, taking another deep drag. "You're too serious, hasn't anyone told you that before?" He exhaled, a plume of grey smoke rising into the sky. "Honestly."

"That's not what you're going to say when he gets older," Bagheera noted sardonically, scuffing his heels against the wooden flooring. "Don't spoil him."

"Oh, yeah?" Grey Brother asked, raising his eyebrows. "When?"

"When he finally learns about Crimson Flower and M.A.N.," Bagheera said. "He's going to have to leave this place someday."

"That's..." Grey Brother moistened his lips, looking uncertain. "He's one of us, isn't he? A Canis Lupus. I thought we agreed we weren't going to talk to him about... those things."

"He doesn't belong here," Bagheera said, turning around so that he was leaning against the balcony railing from behind instead. "The only reason I brought him to Canis Lupus in the first place was because Akela promised to keep him safe. And even then I had my reservations."

He stared into Grey Brother's golden eyes, noting, almost absently, that the other man was now almost the same height as him. He could still remember Raksha's first birth, the screams that had echoed through the chamber in which it had taken place in, the tiny child wailing in her arms. The difference was almost laughable now.

Grey Brother broke the eye contact first, looking away. "You can't just take him away, Bagheera," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "It's not because I want to keep him from M.A.N., but... he's _Mowgli_. My cute little brother. I mean—"

"He belongs with M.A.N.," Bagheera cut in bitingly. "Whether it's today or in ten years, we're going to lose him some day. They're not going to stand for one their kind staying with us, anyway."

Grey Brother didn't say anything in response, tossing his cigarette stub into the wastebin. He fumbled with the pocket of his jacket, reaching for another one.

"You shouldn't get too attached," Bagheera warned. "It's inevitable you'll end up as enemies one day. Just pray to whatever God you believe in that you never hear from him again after that happens."

"I shouldn't have offered you the smoke," Grey Brother said, not looking at him as he lit the new cigarette, "if all you were going to say was _this_."

"I've heard that a lot, kid," Bagheera offered genially, almost self-decrepating in his tone. "Goes with the business."

"You're not funny, you know that?" Grey Brother muttered, throwing open the balcony door and storming inside the house.

Bagheera watched him leave, taking another long drag of his cigarette. It tasted of tar.

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	3. oo3

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 **ASHES**

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 _oo3)_

Raksha didn't look very amused when she confronted Bagheera later on in the day. She was in her casual garb, a golden sari that matched the color of her eyes, and two large golden hoop earrings that Bagheera knew contained enough condensed poison inside to kill an entire city. Her silver hair was wrapped tightly around her head in a detailed crown braid, something she only wore when she was irritated, bloodthirsty, or both. It helped keep bloodstains off of her hair.

"You _know_ that M.A.N.'s a forbidden subject in this house," she said, crossing her arms. "And there was no need to taunt my eldest son like that. He's just a kid."

"Sorry, sorry," Bagheera offered, raising his hands in mock surrender. "To be fair, he _did_ kind of bring it on himself."

Going by Raksha's unimpressed flat stare, she didn't believe him very much.

"Forget it," Bagheera said, sighing. He wasn't going to argue with Raksha about this subject, not with her husband recently dead from an assassination, not when Mowgli was practically one of the only remaining loved ones she had left. "Just pretend that never happened, how's that?"

"You are impossible," Raksha said, sounding infuriated. She didn't make any visible movements, which was good for his physical state, but not-so-good for his mental state. "I don't know why I even bother anymore."

"That should be my line," Bagheera said, his mind itching for a good smoke. He contented himself by fiddling around with the blade he kept inside of his windbreaker.

"My son is not going to M.A.N.," Raksha said finally, after a brief pause. Her tone shifted into something less intimidating, almost demanding with its intensity. "There's no need to bring him there, not when he has us. We're his family."

 _Family doesn't last forever_ , Bagheera thought, thinking of his own relatives, but wisely kept his tongue. Instead, he shrugged, trying to look neutral in his opinion.

"Just... _go_ ," Raksha finally said, bringing a hand to her head in agitation. "Leave this house. Get out. I don't want to see your face in any Canis Lupus territory for the time being."

"Raksha," Bagheera said, raising his eyebrows, "surely—"

"I said _out_ ," Raksha said, clenching her fists tightly. She looked him squarely in the eyes, scowling.

Bagheera left.

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	4. oo4

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 **ASHES**

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 _oo4)_

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Akela declared, speaking mostly to himself. He sighed, running a hand through a collection of tangled grey curls. "The police are cracking down in the business at _now_ of all times. Where were they twenty years ago, when we actually _needed_ them?"

Raksha stayed silent, combing through the mission reports with monotonous ease. The situation had already reached the point where even former enemy gangs were now willing to collaborate and join hands in order to simply stay in business, which worried her greatly. If there was a war against the police, Canis Lupus would no doubt get caught in the middle of the crossfire.

"We have the monthly summit approaching," Akela said, sounding unenthusiastic. "Looks like we are the ones in charge of hosting this time. All those gangs at once, in our territory. Nothing but a disaster practically begging to happen. Remember what happened to the GAZ-Ls the last time it was on their land?"

Raksha hid a cringe. She remembered hiding behind a partially demolished wall as a lower ranked GAZ-L was brutally dismembered by some particularly vindictive members of the Civet gang.

"I'm sure it will not be as bad as it sounds," she suggested, trying to sound as reasonable as she could. "We have Bagheera on our side. There's no gang that's willing to go against him." Suddenly, she felt guilty for casting the man out of their territory earlier for such a trivial matter. She would have to make it up to him somehow, later.

"Yes, but..." Akela paused, as though he had thought of something. "Well, I do hope you're right." He didn't say anything else, his attention once again concentrated on his desktop computer.

Raksha frowned, but made no efforts to press him for an answer; what Akela wished to remain silent about was not her jurisdiction. She just hoped that whatever it was, it truly something that would not come to bite them later.

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	5. oo5

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 **ASHES**

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 _oo5)_

This particularly monthly summit was known as the 'Peace Rock' by its jaded guests, a cynical title based off of a recently released popular song. The atmosphere was dark and silent as the first of their guests arrived — everybody could feel the faint presence of police bearing down on them, ready to break apart valuable drug rings and underground brothels constructed from years of work — and for the longest record since in a long, long time ago, nobody had been killed. Yet. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

Grey Brother curled up on his perch in a hidden corner of the roof, carefully aiming his rifle at a specific figure in the crowd. It was a tall man, dark-skinned, wavy black hair cut choppily around his chin, with hazel eyes that seemed to gleam from a distance and see through everything. A carefully ironed suit, free of wrinkles unlike his own. Polished dress shoes. Someone that commanded presence and attention with every movement.

Bagheera.

It wasn't really that Grey Brother thought the older man to be a threat; he knew that Bagheera simply wanted the best for Mowgli. Yet there was some primal feeling in him that resented his mother's old ally, more than anyone else in the world, for simply _wanting_ to take his little brother away from him. It was selfish, yes, but humans were meant to be selfish, weren't they?

He chewed on his upper lip, itching for a cigarette. Nicotine always calmed him down, and he'd been deprived of it ever since his mother had caught him smoking in his room a couple days ago. He had tried to filch a couple from the drug dealers that visited their territory every Friday, but they'd been out of everything but some of the more... _stimulating_ items. He wasn't trying to get high, he just wanted respite, goddamit.

He glanced at Bagheera again, feeling rather spiteful as he imagined what it would be like to shoot the other man. Not that he could, if he were able to; Bagheera was much more talented and experienced than him in this side of the business, and it wasn't like he was anything great, either. Even his own two older brothers, who had left their home for good and cut connections with the gang in order to become high-ranking politicians, could probably disarm him hands down if they were sparring hand-to-hand.

As if Bagheera had heard what he was thinking, the older man glanced up at his direction, giving him a single, mocking wink.

"Shit," Grey Brother cursed, ducking out of view. Of course this would happen. What was thinking? That he could get away with pretending to kill one of the most powerful men in the business? He was lucky Bagheera was his mother's old friend. Lesser men had been dismembered for just _thinking_ of assassinating the bigwig.

Fuck. He just wanted to keep Mowgli happy, alright? Was that already too much to ask?

Would he be separated from the only brother he had left?

He inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. Cigarette. He needed a cigarette. Goddamit, where were his cigarettes? His mother wouldn't have thrown them away, he knew, and it was unlikely that she would have hid them somewhere too hard to get to.

No, this wasn't the time for cigarettes. He had seen people get killed, or worse, in monthly summits before, and it was never anything pretty. His job was to prevent anything from happening before it started.

Grey Brother ran a hand across his hair, sighing. Nothing was ever easy, with this kind of lifestyle. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to follow his brothers' footsteps, to just pack away everything and run far, far away.

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End file.
